It was moments like this that Blue felt the true joy of living.

It was this: Blue driving the Camaro with Gansey beside her, watching her from the passenger seat, his gaze boring into her, making her face warm with a flush and the hair on her arms rise. It was this: Gansey putting his hand on top of hers on the stick shift, paralleling the time when she had put her hand on top of his. It was this: knowing that they could do whatever they wanted and not being afraid of hurting someone else or each other. It was this: Blue parking the Camaro on the top of a hill that looked out on all of Henrietta, the stars vivid above them, lights illuminating the town they both loved so much. It was this: Gansey taking Blue's hand to his mouth so she could feel his close, warm breath all over it, spreading to all places on her body. It was this: leaning in close enough so that she could feel Gansey's breath on her mouth.

But then there was this other moment, a moment that made Blue hesitate and draw back suddenly, before lips met lips, and she jumped out of the car, slamming the door gently.

She went to the front of the car and leaned on the hood of it, the fresh air cooling her warm skin, and she let out a shaky breath. It was a minute before Blue heard the passenger door open and close, and she felt Gansey lean on the hood of the Camaro next to her.

She didn't look at him, couldn't look at him. Instead she closed her eyes, trying steady her thoughts. Why did it have to be like this?

"I must admit, Jane," Gansey said. "I was left a little surprised by your sudden, abrupt withdrawal back there."

Blue breathed out. "I was, too."

"Did I do something?" There was a trace of worry in his voice, as if he'd somehow offended or hurt her. Blue couldn't stand it.

"No," she said. "You didn't do anything."

"Then why can't you look at me?" He asked when Blue still refused to meet his eyes.

Blue repressed a tear that threatened to spill.

"Blue," Gansey moved to stand close to her, taking her hand in his. "Are you avoiding kissing me?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "I'm just being sensible."

Gansey smiled that smile she loved so much. "I thought you were tired of being sensible."

"Maybe it's not such a bad thing, being sensible. I am known for being a sensible person after all."

"And you think by avoiding kissing me, you're being sensible?"

"Exactly so."

Gansey was amused by this, and Blue couldn't help but be a little amused by it herself.

"That is a reasonable reason, I suppose," he said.

"Sense and reason," Blue said. "Rules to live by."

"Certainly," Gansey said with a smile, and Blue realised she had moved closer to him, or he had moved closer to her, because they were now standing very close. Then he whispered, "I won't kiss you if you don't want me to."

"That's not it," Blue's throat was suddenly closing in on her and she found it hard speaking standing in such close proximity to Gansey. "I want you to."

This felt dangerous and exciting and Blue decided she didn't want to be sensible after all. She reached her arms up and rested her hands around Gansey's neck. Her body always seemed to know what to do when she was with Gansey; how to fit itself against him, to touch the places that tingled warm under her fingers with ease. She had felt it that first time she had ever touched Gansey liked this, and she felt it now.

Gansey's hands were around her back, pulling her closer to him, resting finally on her waist. Blue felt as if his touch alone could burn the fabric of her clothes away from her body.

They both swallowed at the same time, mirroring the desire that lay between them. Their mouths were inches from each other and Blue's heart skittered in her chest.

The last time she had kissed Gansey - the first and only time she had kissed Gansey - he had fallen from her arms, dead at her feet. Her kiss had killed him. It had been the moment Blue had been told about her entire life; if you kiss your true love he will die. It had been the moment she had been dreading all her life. But she had wanted to kiss Gansey badly for so long she almost hadn't cared that her mouth was cursed, not in those moments when he held her close, when their faces were pressed together, mouths inches from touching but knowing not to cross the small distance. She had laid awake at night wondering how his mouth would feel like pressed against hers, what it would feel like to have all of Gansey the way she knew she could never have him.

Blue thought of that moment now; the moment when she had finally pressed her lips against Gansey's, softly, but with all the feelings of her heart, and how she had felt the way it had affected him instantly, slowing his heart and then stopping it entirely. She had clung to him, pressed all of her into him, making sure he felt every shape of her that loved him; love love love.

A faint part of Blue had realised then that another faint part of her maybe hadn't truly believed in the curse after all, because seeing Gansey dying from the simplest touch of her lips had stolen all the oxygen from Blue's small body and her own heart had nearly stopped in her chest.

It was why she had hesitated and drawn back in the car; because she had seen a flash of it in her mind when she was close to touching her lips to Gansey's again. She couldn't stop seeing Gansey falling; seeing Gansey dying; seeing Gansey dead. He had died, but had the curse died with him? He had come back to life; would he die again from another touch of Blue's lips?

She thought perhaps she knew the answer, but it didn't make her less afraid of the question.

Blue touched her forehead to Gansey's, her hands splayed at the back of his neck. Her breath was shallow and she could feel Gansey's shallow breath on her mouth, too. Desire and fear was making her head dizzy.

She whispered against him, "You won't die on me again, will you?"

They both laughed shakily, nervously, and Blue was glad for it.

"I promise I won't," Gansey said, and she believed him. Then he whispered, "Blue," and this time it wasn't a warning.

Blue closed her eyes.

She kissed him.

This time, Blue knew immediately that her kiss wouldn't kill him.

She felt the kiss on her skin, in her bones, all the way in to her heart; it was realest thing Blue thought she had ever felt - Gansey's lips pressed against hers, desire roaring in her so strong she thought she might explode with the feeling of it. She had imagined kissing Gansey countless times, how it would feel if it was just Blue and Gansey and no curse to stop them. But she never imagined she would feel this wildly; this raw; this alive.

She pulled back, her eyes still closed, afraid to open them as if Gansey might be gone if she did. Instead she pressed her hands deep in his neck, feeling his warm skin underneath them, his hair on the tips of her fingers. She could hardly breathe.

Blue felt Gansey's hands holding her firmly by her waist, digging into her skin as if he too needed to be reassured Blue wouldn't disappear.

"Gansey," Blue breathed out his name, barely audible.

"I'm here," he answered. "Blue. Open your eyes."

Blue opened her eyes.

Gansey was there, standing close to her, holding her, looking at her with the same awe and hunger in his eyes that Blue felt burning through her body. Gansey was there, and he was alive, and her kiss hadn't killed him.

"Say something," she said, because she desperately needed him to tell her what she already knew.

"I'm alive," he said, and she heard the relief in his voice; it echoed the relief in her heart. "I feel OK. In fact, I don't think I've ever felt more alive."

He smiled at her, dimples in his cheeks, and she couldn't help but to stare at his nice mouth, his nice mouth that she had just kissed and wanted to kiss again, and again and again. She broke into a smile of her own, and then they were laughing into each other and they were infecting each other with joy, spilling it all over each other.

Gansey reached up and touched her cheek, and she leaned into his palm. They were gazing at each other and it was impossible to look away. Blue felt like she wanted to be trapped in this moment forever.

"Kiss me again, Blue," Gansey said, but Blue shook her head lightly.

"Maybe if you kissed me..." she started, but she didn't get to finish because Gansey had already captured her mouth with his. She was glad, because she didn't know how to finish the sentence anyway.

This time, the kiss was explorative and Blue couldn't help the explicit joy tingled with excitement in her stomach when she felt the slide of Gansey's tongue in her mouth. She met it with her own, and the kiss deepened, and in that moment it was just the two of them existing in the world, and Blue felt primitive and wild and not sensible at all.

She had never thought a kiss could feel like this, had never believed all those stories about how kissing could feel sensate; yet here she was, kissing Gansey, her true love, and it was every good thing she had ever felt in her life all at once and she wondered how she had ever been able to survive without it, how she had been able to withstand his kiss for so long.

I want this always, she thought. And now I can have it.

She was aware of Gansey's hot and eager hands on her face, in her hair, and hers was equally as eager in his.

It was several minutes before they broke apart, and even as their lips parted ever so slightly, Blue already longed to do it all over again.

They were both catching their breath, breathing in the cool November air, too worked up to say a word.

Blue looked up at Gansey then, and if she had a mental camera she would have taken a picture of him right then; with his hair dishevelled from Blue's eager hands, his lips red and swollen from Blue's lips, his eyes filled with desire and contentment she had never seen in him before. She decided this was one of her favourite versions Gansey, and she felt a tingle of joy in the fact that she was the reason for it. She could only imagine what she herself looked like in Gansey's eyes.

"That was..." Gansey started, but he couldn't put word to what it was, and Blue was at an equal loss.

"Yeah," was all she said, and then she laughed again, and Gansey laughed too, and it was pure and light and a moment Blue world remember for the rest of her life.

They stood like that for a minute or an hour - Blue couldn't tell - their faces close together, wrapped in each other and gazing at nothing but each other. This is what love is. Simple and light, and right.

In the end it was Gansey who broke apart and stepped from their embrace, going to the back of the Camaro, and opening the trunk. He came back a moment later with a blanket in his hands, which he laid on the ground next to the car.

He sat down and motioned for Blue to sit, too. Blue took of her boots - which really, it wasn't a very sensible thing to do in mid-November - and sat down on the blanket next to him.

Gansey traced a pattern up and down her arm, and Blue looked up at the night sky, feeling the happiness and contentment filling her, soaking up every part of her.

"The stars," she said. "They're beautiful."

Gansey followed her gaze up to the sky, and then, after a moment, he stretched his body out and laid down on the blanket. Blue did the same, and she put her head in the crook of his shoulder, resting there softly, with one hand on his chest.

Gansey wrapped his arms around her, taking Blue's hand in one of his own, turning it this way and that, playing with it, and Blue remembered how he had put her hand to his mouth earlier.

"And this night," Gansey said, and pressed a kiss in her hair.

"And this night," Blue echoed, and together they laid on the blanket, wrapped in each other, looking up at the stars with all the promise of magic in the air.